


delirium

by ackerwhat



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Car Accidents, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Graphic Description, M/M, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, of possible ship(s), or no?, with a bit of hint here and there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 23:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15130073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackerwhat/pseuds/ackerwhat
Summary: Delirium – an acutely disturbed state of mind characterized by restlessness, illusions, and incoherence, occurring in intoxication, fever, and other disorders.Every life has its own story to tell. Sungwoon’s has many stops and starts. Ups and downs, a little jerk to the left, a bit bumpy on the right side. He knew what he signed up for the moment he dreamt of being an idol.But this, this he had never expected.It took a mere second for everything to change .





	delirium

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot for the mods, the prompters and everyone who is supporting and involved in this collection!  
> I had fun writing this. 
> 
> This could be triggering to some people who had accidents/had almost lost their loved ones in an accident.

**Prompt 179:**

**Delirium – an acutely disturbed state of mind characterized by restlessness, illusions, and incoherence, occurring in intoxication, fever, and other disorders**

 

* * *

 

Every life has its own story to tell. Sungwoon’s has many stops and starts. Ups and downs, a little jerk to the left, a bit bumpy on the right side. He knew what he signed up for the moment he dreamt of being an idol. He knew there’d be countless of sleepless nights, days where he’d work his limbs tirelessly. He knew he’d be chasing after time.

 

Therefore, he’s always living his life to the fullest—enjoying love and support from his fans, friends, brothers, family because he knew how precious every single moment is. Every meeting is never a coincidence, every hello and goodbye would shape him into what he is today. Every rejection, opportunity, it is never in vain.

 

Everything happens for a reason.

 

They happen for a reason.

 

But when _it_ happened to him. Sungwoon asked himself, “Why me?”

**.**

**.**

**.**

There’s a light. A bright one.

 

It’s blinding—

 

It’s supposed to be normal really. He encounters camera flashes every day, films with the presence of it for hours, performs under the spotlights for days. And sometimes when the schedule lets them breathe, the light from Minhyun’s reading lamp illuminates his nights.

 

It used to be calming—somewhat like a constant that reminds him that he’s on stage, he’s doing what he loves, tells him that he’s breathing and darkness is temporary.

 

But now.

.

.

.

 _Clank._ Sungwoon pushed the flashlight pen away from his face and it hit the bed rail, before falling off the doctor’s grip.

 

“Sungwoon?” Their manager, Byungjun hyung called from where he was standing.

 

The doctor turned to the manager and assured him that it was fine, then bending down to take the fallen pen. He proceeded to jot something in Sungwoon’s chart. Byungjun hyung followed the doctor’s movement with attentive eyes.

 

Sungwoon was still out of it. He couldn’t think, let alone see clearly.

 

He felt or rather heard a loud ringing in his ears. The pain was excruciating, close to unbearable. He tried ignoring the pain but the resounding sound grew louder. His gaze became unfocused and he ended up winding for space, for air—

 

_The room’s too bright._

 

“What’s wrong with him?” Byungjun hyung went over and held Sungwoon’s hand. Sungwoon’s responding grip was tight. His eyes were shut, his mouth letting out little groans. The pain was too much that he shed a few tears.

 

_What’s going on?_

 

“It’s normal,” The doctor noted, “After headache, photosensitivity, or light sensitivity is the second-most common symptoms of concussion or traumatic brain injury.”

 

“W-wait, temporary brain injury?”

 

Sungwoon muted everything out. He saw vague images, sometimes it focused on Byungjun hyung’s creased eyebrows, and next, the scene altered into something akin to a vortex. His manager looked distressed, seemed like he hadn’t been sleeping for days too. The doctor was still explaining something, then came in the nurses bringing more tools to poke onto his body.

 

He felt sick all over again.

 

The idol clutched his head in his hands, trying to shut the brightness from blinding him. But as he closed his eyes, he saw a distant light in the back of his eyes, before everything fell back into crashes of the vehicle against the road.

.

.

.

“What does it mean?” Jisung asked on behalf of the rest of the members. The others were confused or too shocked. Some had been crying, some still were. The air in the room was dark and it showed in the members’ various cheerless expressions. Minhyun was still pacing in the side of the room, restless for new information regarding his roommate.

 

“Well I quoted that from the doctor in charge of Sungwoon,” The manager rubbed his head, hand still shivering but he quickly hid it behind his back. Some of the members were still minors. Well, minors or not, this situation could become a traumatic experience for everyone who almost lost their dearest person.

 

He sighed, looking one by one at the members’ reaction before continuing, “He had regained his consciousness but we can’t predict what happens next. Sungwoon showed some signs of head injury and they’re going to monitor his condition further. He was—” He paused to look for the right word to describe Sungwoon’s condition.

“Just say it,” Daniel interrupted from where he was sitting. He was at the other end of the table, biting disgruntledly at his nails, indirectly picking up his hyung’s own habit. Kuanlin put a hand over Daniel’s thigh, as if to calm him down albeit it only worked to fuel Daniel up. “Well, he’s been beating around the bush since he came. Could’ve saved us from this misery by telling the fact straight to our face.”

 

“I bet it’s hard for hyung too, Daniel. Let’s not make things worse.” Minhyun reminded, now still as he waited by the manager’s side. “Can’t we go and visit him now?”

 

“It’s been hours since he woke up,” Seongwoo chipped in from the side. “Hyung would be feeling better if there’s someone with him.” In all seriousness, Seongwoo continued, “We won’t make that much of noise. We just want to see him.”

 

“I know,” Manager hyung replied. It looked like he didn’t know how much it mattered to the boys. They weren’t kids.  It’d be easier to digest if the manager didn’t assume that he was aware how the rest had felt. If he had known, then he wouldn’t be spurting all this nonsense right now.

 

“Then I don’t know what’s the problem right now,” Seongwoo insisted again, “Why are you keeping us out of the loop right now? Why keep us here in this damned company when we could’ve been there with hyung when he woke up?”

 

“There are reporters _everywhere_.” Dahye noona, one of their main staff member rebutted.

 

“I _still_ don’t see a problem right now.” Daniel countered back.

 

“Why aren’t you letting us see him?” Daehwi suddenly voiced out. He had been one of the quieter members as they had learnt of Sungwoon’s accident. His face, red and puffy with dried tears and snot, darkened as the staff were about to give out more excuses. “I just want to see him with my eyes,” He cried, “I need to see for myself that he’s alive and breathing.”

 

Dahye noona and Byungjun hyung sighed. They looked at each other before falling into one of their hushed conversation.

 

Jisung took the opportunity to pester and pressure them for more information. The company and  none of the staff member  had taken the responsibility to notify the members on Sungwoon’s condition over the time.

 

Confirmation regarding his condition came only in the second hour—in which the press, news, online articles had published reports on the accident already. Twitter was blowing up, text messages came in, flooding the members’ phones.

 

 

It was another long wait.

 

“Why are we being detained here?” Jihoon questioned under his breath. Woojin looked at his best friend and lowly muttered, “We’re waiting for updates on Sungwoon hyung.”

 

“Yeah, but they’re not telling us anything,” Frustrated, Jihoon stretched his arm and let it rest on top of Jinyoung’s shoulder. Similarly to Daehwi, Jinyoung was one of the deeply affected members. He was the one who received the phone call that bore the bad news. Right now, Jinyoung was still hiccupping, effect from crying too much.

 

When Jihoon noticed this, he pulled his arm off. “We should’ve gone straight to the hospital,” He sighed.

 

 

“It’s best that you not post anything on the fancafe for now,” The manager finally declared. That brought a lot of unsatisfied responses from the boys. “Come on, listen to me now. Sungwoon had just woken up. We still need to do more check-ups and tests for him. Let the company do the addressing on this matter. You just focus on the World Tour preparation. That’d be all.”

 

Dahye noona then continued, “We’ll call the van for you. Don’t do anything reckless. Please.”

.

.

.

.

Emergency personnel arrived about 40 minutes later. They came along with the reporters. There were flashes everywhere—headlights from passing cars, cameras clicking. His sight was covered by something, probably blood. Sungwoon went in and out of consciousness a few times until someone tended to him.

 

He heard shoutings, a lot of crying, scraps of hurried shoes against the rain-paved ground.

 

He smelled blood. In his weak state, he could not tell if it’s coming from him or not. But maybe it was, since he could taste the metallic pain inside his mouth. Still, he wasn’t sure. The rain muddled everything, even his senses.

 

After a while, he felt himself waking up again. This time he felt as if he was being lifted. He tried moving his limbs but he couldn’t even lift a finger. In that temporary alarming moment, Sungwoon thought of his legs—why couldn’t he move?

 

He felt disconnected. As if the world continued spinning and leaving him alone on the road.

 

Someone kept on trying to engage him in a conversation. Maybe the manager hyung, he couldn’t tell. A loud thud was heard and then it was silence. The sound of the rain was reduced to its taps on the vehicle.

 

 

“Stay with me, Sungwoon,”

 

“No, no don’t close your eyes.”

 

“Hey, I’m here, hyung’s here,”

.

.

.

When he gained a bit of consciousness, he recognised instantly where he was—the hospital. Bright light everywhere, reporters versus bodyguards., Sungwoon took it all in passing. Not sure if what he was seeing and feeling was real.

 

Felt like it could be a dream.

 

 

Must’ve been a dream. A nightmare. He was just on his way back from a schedule. He was singing on the stage, joking around with the rest of the members, waving happily at his fans. On the way to the company van, he had been joking around with Seongwoo, teasing Jaehwan maybe?

 

“You’re not riding with us, hyung?”  Daniel had asked, one leg inside the van already. The other kids were loud as always as they arranged themselves.

 

Sungwoon recalled clearly, replying that he’d be grabbing a quick supper with their manager. He had been on a tight diet before the concert, and a short trip to the store would be a great pick-up in this desperate time. The rest were eager to go back home and rest.

 

It was raining so the managers ushered them quickly to their respective rides.

 

 

No foresight could tell what would happen minutes later.

.

.

.

He went into a six-hour surgery. Had some ribs broken, and a concussion. His condition was not in a state in which the members or the company could do a VLive to ‘calm’ the fans down.

 

From Ilsan, his family had come. His grandfather, his aunt, even his parents and his little sister, all came bearing heavy hurts and solemn expressions.

 

The media went overboard with the reports—a lot were untrue and stretched to attract more clicks and views. There were a few clips taken—from the accident site, in the hospital. They heightened fear and concern from all over the world.

 

Sungwoon felt sick just reading the posts concerning his accident.

 

 

Friends, acquantainces, some staff members he’d befriend over the course of his career, his phone was flooded by messages, missed calls, get-well-soon posts.

 

He saw one post—fans were enraged about it in Twitter, so instantaneously, his finger clicked on the attached link. There was a ‘Rest in peace’ post tribute to him. Under the comments, the antis were having the time of the century celebrating his accident.

 

Sungwoon turned his phone off.

 

.

.

.

A period of extensive rehab, having therapists prodded at his legs, training his limbs to work again.

 

Meetings with therapists—they tried to help, talking to Sungwoon like he was this sick baby that needed sugar-coating and positive reinforcement. He needed none of that. He just wanted to leave the hospital as soon as possible.

 

They were nice, trained to make patients like him understand themselves. They talked to him about traumas, on how one of Sungwoon’s after-effect was sensitivity to light. They explained to him that it was all normal and things would be back to normal soon. Really, Sungwoon appreciated their effort but deep down he already knew it—to convince his mind that everything would be back to normal would be to reprogram his brain.

 

He couldn’t do it.

 

At the back of his mind, constantly reminding himself, he could hear distant crashes of a vehicle.

 

Sometimes, he felt this weird whirl in his heart—and once again, it reminded him of how the car had flipped not only once, but multiple times.

 

And when it rains, the coldness seeped through Sungwoon’s skin, crawling and creeping onto him. Taps on the windows, sound of the showers, blood, blood, blood— _god, the smell of blood_.

 

These things reduced Sungwoon to this small repetitive machine that could only replay the accident scene over and over.

.

.

.

 

Today he woke up and instantly knew that it would not be a good day. He wore a pair of faded old sweatpants and a plain white baggy tee. It engulfed him right away. The weather was warm outside but Sungwoon grabbed a black oversized jacket to cover himself. He felt cold. He didn’t like it. It reminded him of his stay in the hospital.

 

It took him a while to relearn all those basic skills—brushing his teeth, washing his face, without looking into the mirror and seeing the flipping van replaying itself like a broken film.

 

He couldn’t sing. It had been almost two weeks. He hated it. There was only a few moments left but this—this accident—took almost all of his remaining time. He missed two fansigns, one concert, two if he’s counting the one incoming on the weekend.

 

He couldn’t dance. He was just released from the rehabilitation centre, with very much hesitance from the therapists. His body wasn’t ready for such strenuous activity, they firmly advised. It was said along these lines—“Your body is just starting to reboot. You’re going to crash it if you don’t take care of yourself.” 

 

He tried dancing once. He couldn’t do it. His knees were buckling and the light in the practice room loomed like a tsunami. Sungwoon felt that it could swallow him whole and he stayed there for a few moments. Scared. Of not being able to perform any longer. Of his own thoughts.

 

He tried again. This time, Daniel caught him. He was pulled into the living room with no words exchange. It was humiliating—to see the expressions on the rest of the members. Daehwi cried. Again. He had been crying a lot—scared—he knew what it felt to lose someone forever. Sungwoon was on the brink of death just a few weeks ago.

.

.

.

.

“It’s normal,” Jisung reminded him. “What you went through, it was horrible. We want the best for you, even if the healing process takes time, we’d be here with you all the way.”

 

Sungwoon had nothing to say. The most he had spoken since his return was less than ten sentences. Compared to his usual bubbly and nagging self, it was an obvious change. It wasn’t as if he could not talk. In the confinement of his room, he had talked about the accident a lot. To Minhyun.

 

But just expressing himself and confessing that he was having troubles were not enough. His mind was still in a constant state of alarm.

 

“I don’t think thing there’s a set time limit for it.” Minhyun had said. They were on their respective beds, heads facing one another. “You shouldn’t rush these things. I’ll be here for you.”

 

“Will you protect me even from myself?”

 

Minhyun stared at him for a long time after hearing that. Sungwoon couldn’t read his facial expression as the room was too dark. Even without seeing it, he could feel Minhyun’s frustration? Rage?

 

“I hope it won’t come to that then.”

 

.

.

.

“What do you mean he couldn’t rest for more? The kid was in an accident! He almost lost his life!”

“He’s not in a state where he could look at flashes, not to mention singing and performing under these lights!”

 

“What can we do about it? We can’t let Wanna One continue as 10 only. There’s gotta be a slot where we could include him. This isn’t about neglecting his health but everyone has been asking about it.”

 

“He’ll be distressed. He’s already having a difficult time regaining his senses and control over his movement. What would you do if things go worse? What if he can’t perform anymore after that?”

 

“We’ll make sure that he’s protected.”

 

“There are thousands of fans that would be there! You can’t go to each one and tell them to turn off their flashes. What about the spotlights? The fireworks?”

 

“He’ll be fine.”

 

“Did you—did you talk to him already?”

 

“Sungwoon wants to be on that stage. And that’s gonna happen. We’ll do anything to grant him his wish.”

.

.

.

Although the members were against his decision, Sungwoon was stubborn as hell to join the next stop of their World Tour.

 

Singing was alright, dancing exerted more energy he’d ever used in the last month but it was fine—Sungwoon was a hardworker, a practice maniac. He was determined, more than ever about this upcoming stage.

 

The members were laughing. Eleven of them makes the true one, Sungwoon’s empty space during practice was prominent and everyone misses him dearly. The choreographer, dancers, their producers all applauded him for his comeback. The gentle and necessary mothering was there but Sungwoon had gotten used to it with Jisung and Minhyun breathing on his neck 24/7.

 

 

_“After a traumatic experience, the human system of self-preservation seems to go onto permanent alert, as if the danger might return at any moment.”_

 

 

It was around ten in the evening. It had been raining, the pavement was wet and Sungwoon’s senses spiked up.

 

The company van was about fifteen metres away. The other members were loud as usual when they boarded their ride, teasing each other, planning what they would have for late dinner. Jinyoung and Seongwoo were doing rock-paper-scissor to decide who’d get to shower first when they arrive back home.

 

Sungwoon panicked.

 

His hands trembled but he tried to hide it under the pretence of laughter and happy smile.

 

“Hyung?” Kuanlin stopped him. “What do you think about walking to the convenience store with me?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Jaehwan asked, “It’s raining and the dorm is far. Don’t trouble Sungwoon hyung. Ask Woojin or Jinyoung if you must.”

 

“It’s alright, I’ll go with the two of them,” Woojin offered. “After all, I need to grab something from the store too.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, boys,” The manager butted in. “We can’t have you out here in the rain. And there’d be fans following you. It’s dangerous. Sungwoon needs the rest anyway so—”

 

“I think I’ll go with Kuanlin?” Sungwoon suddenly said. Everyone had been talking as if he was a baby, like he wasn’t there at the moment. When he had agreed to Kuanlin’s invitation, they stared at him. “The night air might be good for me after the strenuous dancing anyway.”

 

“Are you sure?” Daniel asked. Gone was the light smirk but was replaced with his usual kicked puppy look.

 

“Yeah,” Sungwoon said. He passed his bag to Minhyun, before grabbing his wallet from it. “I’m sure Kuanlin can protect me.”

 

“Of course, hyung,” Kuanlin reassured, “I will protect you!”

 

 

“It was raining as well,” Daehwi muttered at the back of the van. Conversations died down and they all spun around to look at the maknae. “It was raining when Sungwoon got into the accident. Of course, he doesn’t want to ride the van. It reminded him of the time when it happened.”

The rest of the ride back home was filled with silence. 

 

.

.

.

“How does it feel?”

 

“Like I’m staring straight at the Sun. But worse.”

 

“I might be having that problem too,” Minhyun said.

 

Sungwoon raised his head from his pillow. He hadn’t known this. Before he could say anything in response, Minhyun continued, “Since I’m always looking at you.”

 

The little scoff was an automatic reaction. Sungwoon dropped back to the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “You smooth fucker,” He said, making Minhyun laughed heartily. It wasn’t insensitive of Minhyun to be joking about such thing. Instead, Sungwoon welcomed it. Everyone was being weary and hesitant around him. He felt isolated.

 

“We should get you a new screen protector, hyung,” His roommate muttered. “You were always on your phone before you get to sleep. It helps you to sleep, right?” Sungwoon’s habit would be checking and scrolling on Twitter before calling it a day. After the accident, Sungwoon’s symptoms have been aggravated by computers, phones, bright lights, and most especially, camera flashes.

 

 

The fans—it had been a while since Sungwoon last interacted with them. He hadn’t been out, had not logged onto the fan café or their other social media sites. He would be lying if he said he doesn’t miss them.

 

“Do you mind if I post something? I want to say something like, ‘Sungwoon hyung is beside me. Do you have anything to say to him?’ I’ll read their responses to you. How about that, hyung?”

 

“Come here then,” Sungwoon invited Minhyun. He lifted his blanket to let Minhyun joined him on his bed.

 

 

As Minhyun was reading him the fans’ comments (they had been elated to see the post, everyone was rejoicing at Sungwoon’s unofficial greeting, which would be the first time ever since the accident), the room was intruded by one Bae Jinyoung.

 

“Why are you having fun without me?” He accused, lips turned pouting as he took in the two roommates snuggling and talking under the cover. In one hand, he was holding his phone which showed that he had most probably saw Minhyun’s post in the fancafe.

 

Minhyun and Sungwoon just laughed at Jinyoung’s expression. It seemed that Jinyoung was taken aback at Sungwoon’s smile. The eldest of the three realised this and he tilted his head as he asked the maknae this, “You’re not going to cry, are you Jinyoung.”

 

“Don’t be surprised if I start wailing here right now.” The younger one replied as he started making his way to Sungwoon’s bed. Without a word, the two accepted him and the three of them huddled together, reading their fans’ messages to Sungwoon.

 

.

.

.

Singing came as easy as breathing for Sungwoon.

 

He remembered late evening folk rhythm with his grandmother, as they watched and pestered his grandfather to _stop working in the fields and have some sweet potato instead!_ When his grandmother died and his grandfather finally gave his blessings to let Sungwoon sing for a living because he was reminded of how his late wife had loved and adored his grandson’s voice.

 

Sungwoon recalled his first audition, his second one, his audition that sealed his fate with his fellow Hotshot members. He thought back of the nervousness he felt as he came with Taehyun to try out for Produce 101. When he stood on the position evaluation and sang ‘Downpour’, when he was chosen to be the main vocalist for the final debut line evaluation.

 

As easy as singing came for him, Sungwoon always thought that singing was hard. Singing with the right way, the right tunes and strength, it was complicated. The more he learns how to sing, the more complex it became. The more he thought himself as lacking and deficient.

 

“You still sound amazing,” Someone interrupted Sungwoon’s session. He was startled, turning back to stare at the intruder. It was Jaehwan.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“I’m here to watch you practice, hyung.” Came the immediate answer.

 

In the darkness of the room, Sungwoon could see Jaehwan’s expectant face.

 

“I’m not comfortable,” He truthfully confessed, “I’m scared to make mistakes right now. You should probably go.”

 

“But aren’t you here for practice, hyung?” Jaehwan retorted. “It’s fine to make mistakes during practice. I do too.” The main vocal then dimmed the light in the narrow practice room to suit Sungwoon’s condition. The room was brighter than usual, by Sungwoon’s new standard, to make it easier for him to look at the music scores.

 

"This isn't like you," Sungwoon commented. His eyes still followed Jaehwan's movement. When Jaehwan ignored his comment, Sungwoon hummed. He felt weird but he welcomed Jaehwan's help anyway.

 

Moreover, Jaehwan couldn't be separated from music. It'd be great to get some help from him after all.

.

.

.

Over the period, Sungwoon was getting better.  

 

But there would be times where he’d relapsed.

 

When things just seemed off in his eyes.

 

When he’d hear that damned loud ringing.

 

When he saw the headlights of cars, flashes of camera—

 

He was on the ground, body strained and bleeding, barely putting up a fight with death.

.

.

.

.

 

“Why am I back here?” Was Sungwoon’s first question when he regained consciousness.

 

He was doing fine, attending vocal and dance practices, he had been training hard but in moderation for his solo stage.

 

He was recovering and moving on.

 

“Why am I here again?” He croaked, face scrunched with tears. He was frustrated with himself, with how things had ended up.

 

Jisung’s face was gloomy as he pulled the chair closer and grabbed Sungwoon’s hand. “Don’t cry. You can’t cry.” _If you do, I might not control myself_ , the leader thought, _pleaded_ Sungwoon.

 

“What happened? Hyung, please,” Sungwoon cried even harder. If he had to stay here, it’d put all his efforts so far into vain. When would he get better? Why did it happen to him?

 

“You had an episode,” Jisung explained. “Jihoon found you in the bathroom. Said he knocked a few times but you didn’t answer.”

 

 

“Did the press find out about this?”

 

Jisung shook his head, “No, there was no article about it so far.”

 

 

“I am so weak,” Sungwoon sighed. “Why me? Why is this happening to me?”

 

“Sungwoon—”

 

“Every time I look at the mirror, I’d be reminded of the rain and cars. Flipped cars.”

 

 

There was a knock on the door and Sungwoon clamped his mouth shut. He wasn’t feeling like sharing what he’s been experiencing with the doctors or nurses. They might send him to see more therapists, or worse, he thought—the psychiatrist. He wasn’t having mental problems—he just needed more time to be like himself.

 

“Come in,” Jisung invited.

 

The door was then slid open. In came Junhyuk and Moonkyu.

 

Sungwoon’s voice was reduced to little sobs as he took in the faces of his original members.

 

“You idiot,” Was Junhyuk’s first words to him.

 

 

Sungwoon looked at Jisung for answers. There were multiple times in which Sungwoon could’ve been reunited or crossed paths with Hotshot members in broadcasting stations but somehow, they always miss each other by a second, a day, or a week.

 

 _Are they allowed to be in here_ , Sungwoon wanted to ask but he was so caught up in crying to even voice it out.

 

 

“Hyung pulled some connections to make this happen,” Jisung said. “Hojung-nim was in Japan with UNB?” He said, unsure of the information he received. “But I think it’s better than nothing right.”

 

It was hard for the two to just stay there, so close yet so far from Sungwoon. But still, they gave the members some privacy before they could have their turn.

 

“I’ll be waiting outside,” Jisung said as he dismissed himself.

 

He bowed at Junhyuk and Moonkyu before exiting.

 

When he saw a particular person, with his back against the wall, covered by a beanie and dressed in oversized sweater, he could recognise the man right away.

 

“Why are you not coming inside?”

 

Taehyun looked at Jisung and smiled, hand bumped onto the leader’s as a greeting. He turned slightly, making his shoulder withholding his body against the wall. “I’m waiting for San and Hojung. Hojung just got back from—”

 

“—Japan,” Jisung shrugged, “Yeah I heard about it. But Taehyun-ah, you could’ve waited inside. He’d appreciate it more you know.”

 

“Did he cry?”

 

“Like a baby,” Jisung answered. The two leaders shared a good laugh, as both could picture the vocalist doing so.

 

“Now tell hyung,” Jisung pestered as he pulled Taehyun to walk towards the nearest seat. “Why are you still here?”

 

Taehyun took a while to answer. Jisung waited, patiently.

 

“I didn’t know what to do,” The once-JBJ-member finally admitted, “I didn’t know what to say to him. We hadn’t talked for months, I didn’t even send him a message after the accident. I’m embarrassed to come inside and face him.”

 

Jisung spoke calmly, “You clearly love him as much as he loves you back. Why do you have these unnecessary thoughts?”

 

“I hated him,” Taehyun suddenly confessed. Jisung frowned but he tried to neutralise his expression. Now what did Taehyun mean by this? “When I found out about it, I was—I felt like a part of me had been ripped. I was so scared of losing him.”

 

Jisung, without a word, held Taehyun’s trembling hand. He had felt the same, if not even worse. He was there with Sungwoon before the accident. Jisung had felt like a part of the accident was his fault—if he could turn back time, he’d not let Sungwoon board the van alone. He’d keep him somewhere safe. He’d keep an eye on him.

 

Not only Sungwoon but the rest of the members.

 

He’s the eldest and he had felt like he had failed in protecting them.

 

“I hated him. Not once, but over and over, Sungwoon had screwed my mind. He reduced me to this pathetic worrying person, looking at him from afar,” Taehyun said once more, “Even now, I want so badly to come inside the room and hug the shit out of him.”

 

“It’s easy to just do so, Taehyun. We are here on borrowed time.” Us, much more than you guys, Jisung had thought. “Go inside and tell him these. Tell him how much you were afraid of losing him, how glad you are to have him here, alive and breathing. Tell him how much you love him.”

 

Taehyun laughed bitterly. He shook his head. “He’s showered with enough love for now.”

 

The room adjacent to where they were, was now filled with laughter. _Sungwoon’s laughter_. It had been a long while since Jisung had heard it. The laughter that could bring him to a smile at any given situation. The annoying yet endearing laughter.

 

“Believe it or not, those two are worse than us when it comes to babying Sungwoon.” Taehyun mentioned. “They’d probably not done with crying. If I walk in now—”

 

“Why do I think that you’d cry the hardest?” Jisung teased. In his light joke, Jisung meant it. Even now, he could see how puffy and bloated Taehyun’s face was. The first person that he’d contacted to arrange this meeting was Taehyun. Sungwoon’s admittance to the hospital was confidential and kept shut from the public eyes and ears. They didn’t want to repeat what had happened before.

 

Imagine Taehyun’s heart when he had heard the news.

 

“Sungwoon is having a hard time now. His physical state might be alright but his mind was still unstable. He spaces out a lot. He’s afraid but he doesn’t want to show or even admit it.”

 

“We couldn’t do much, you know,” Taehyun said.

 

“Oh believe me,” Jisung insisted, “You guys might be the thing he needs most right now.”

.

.

.

“Stop making people worry about you.”

 

“Were you worried, Yoon San?” Sungwoon asked, didn’t want to miss an opportunity in annoying his fellow member. “This isn’t like you, you know.”

 

“Of course, I’m worried,” San admitted, much to Sungwoon’s surprise. “I was afraid, worried _and_ anxious. When no one reported on how you were doing the first few days of the accident, when the company decided that we shouldn’t come over to see how you were doing, when I received this call that said you collapsed and was brought to the hospital again—I’m dead worried, okay.”

 

“Hojung went on the last flight,” Moonkyu revealed. “Everyone feels the same, Sungwoon.”

 

“You did us dirty,” San continued, “I thought I’d no longer—” He stopped himself before the words could come out. San blinked a few times to try and get rid of the accumulating tears but a few had escaped. His lips trembled as he tried to calm himself down.

 

Junhyuk patted the rapper’s shoulder tenderly, “Did you get what Yijung had sent?”

 

San welcomed the distraction and he bent down to get Yijung’s present for Sungwoon.

 

“For you and your stupid face.”

 

“The last one was unnecessary.” Hojung laughed at San’s choice of words. He then turned to face Sungwoon, “How are you doing, main vocalist?”

 

“I’m dead tired,” Sungwoon answered, still unbelieving that all six of them were in the same room. Although the main reason why they had gathered wasn’t something to celebrate but he was still thankful of how things had come to be.

 

Moonkyu who was wrapped together with Sungwoon on the hospital hummed. “Are you feeling better now?”

 

“Much better,” Sungwoon replied. “With all of you here, I feel like I could finally breathe.”

 

And so Sungwoon told him what had happened. Described to them explicitly how scared he had felt, of the nights and the heavy rain. Of company vans and honks, of car spotlights and camera flashes. How they had reminded him of what he had experience at the night of the accident.

 

How he was just lying there on the ground, eyes losing their focus but what was constant was the passing headlights.

 

“I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. I forgot how to function. Everything, sometimes all at once, at times, gradually disappearing. I couldn’t look at the rest of Wanna One. I felt like I had taken their precious times and held them back from achieving and experiencing more. There are only a few months yet. Everything was off the equilibrium when I got into this accident. When I keep on relapsing and fainting like this.”

 

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Taehyun reminded him. That was Taehyun’s first comment ever since he entered the room. “Shit happens in life. There’s nothing we could do about it.

.

.

.

“Spend time with me too,” Daniel whined one day as he climbed up Sungwoon’s bed, after getting rid of Minhyun out of the room. Well, Minhyun was getting ready to go out to get something light as their late-night snack and Daniel had rushed his exit by handing over his wallet, jacket and face mask.

 

“Don’t do anything weird in here. Sungwoon hyung doesn’t like it but he’s too polite to say it to you directly,” Minhyun warned the younger one. Ever since Sungwoon had gotten into the accident, Minhyun’s mother hen nature had unleashed its true potential so Daniel merely hummed uncommittedly and agree to whatever Minhyun was saying.

 

Sungwoon just chuckled as Daniel busily arranged the two of them into a more comfortable position.

 

His long arm was cushioned below Sungwoon’s neck and the other was draped across the vocalist’s waist.

 

“Is this okay, hyung?” Daniel asked. The centre craves for attention, especially Sungwoon’s.

 

‘Don’t do anything weird,” Sungwoon repeated Minhyun’s warning to Daniel. “You heard my roommate, right?”

 

“What could I possibly do to you?” Daniel asked. Contradicting to his words, he had pulled Sungwoon closer to himself, almost squeezing the smaller one in his hold. “I’m just recharging myself.”

 

Wanna One might be on a temporary hiatus before the preparation for the next lag of their World Tour but Daniel is South Korea’s number one pick. He must’ve just arrived from a personal schedule, Sungwoon noted, he still smelled of expensive cologne and thick makeup. And his lips were still covered in lip balm. How Sungwoon could’ve known this? Daniel was too close for his own good.

 

He was literally pressing his lips on the elder’s neck.

 

“What are you doing, Kang Daniel?” Sungwoon asked as he tried to create more gap between the two of them. Daniel didn’t budge even a bit.

 

“Let me just hold you.” Daniel whispered.

 

The room was dark, as Sungwoon still preferred not being blinded by even a ray of light. He remembered Minhyun telling the rest not to disturb his rest so they would probably not trespass into Sungwoon’s space (unlike Kang Daniel right here).

 

“You should at least change your clothes.” Sungwoon suggested. The gruff of Daniel’s jeans was slightly uncomfortable, but his warmth compensated the little slack.

 

“Don’t want.” Daniel replied, voice muffled as he rubbed his cheek against Sungwoon’s.

 

“And you’re too close.”

 

“I’m comforting you right now.”

 

“This is warning, Kang Daniel,” Sungwoon tried shaking Daniel’s grasp off his body. “What are you doing?”

 

“Affection.” Daniel answered right away. Sungwoon huffed, believing that no matter what, he couldn’t win against the younger one. Without a word, Sungwoon just patted Daniel’s hand which was holding tight onto him. “You’re cold.”

 

“I’m shivering right now,” Sungwoon admitted, in the middle of inspecting his own cold skin.

 

“But your heart is all warm,” The rapper cum dancer said happily. “I can feel your heart beating like crazy."

 

“Daniel,” Sungwoon warned yet again. This time, he scooted away from Daniel’s hold more firmly.

 

“Are you okay? Did you have fun today?” Daniel asked, “You were discharged from the hospital earlier and even got to see the Hotshot hyung-nims. What did the doctor say?”

 

“You’re changing the subject.”

 

“Well, since you never really like talking about the topic with me.” Daniel challenged softly under his breath. His eyes were sharp but his expression remained fond and full of adoration. Sungwoon looked away.

 

“Behave please,” The elder one said.

 

“Fine.” Daniel sulked. However, his hands had not retracted from its position but Sungwoon welcomed the touch anyway.

 

They were then engulfed in silence, simply contented with each others' warmth. Sungwoon was thinking of how nice it was to just lay down and enjoy the soft humming of Daniel's breathing against his back.

 

"You are really loved, hyung."

 

"I know," Sungwoon replied. "And I'm very thankful for everyone. For you guys."

 

Daniel smiled heartily at Sungwoon's words.

 

"I love you, hyung,"

 

Sungwoon scoffed, thinking how Daniel could take advantage of this.

 

Daniel sighed. After a while, he picked up the courage and said,

 

 

"I was afraid. I'm sure that you didn't know this, but I tried calling you. I didn't want to believe them, but then they called us all. They talked to us and showed us the pictures. The van looked terrible. Byungjun hyung was fine but you were not. The mirror of the passenger side was broken. There were  blood all over the place."

 

Daniel's breath hitched as he recalled the night. Sungwoon hadn't known this. They were very careful around him, walking on eggshells.

 

  
Daniel continued, "You were critical. You didn't wake up for hours. They struggled with your surgery. We were--"

 

"Niel," Sungwoon turned around. "It's okay. I'm here now."

 

Daniel was crying, tears ruining his perfect sculptured face. If Sungwoon hadn't been crying as well, he'd have a good laughter out of it.

 

"I thought I almost lost you. I would die if I could never see you again."

 

  
Sungwoon's heart hurt. To see how the accident had affected Daniel. Seeing the heartbreaking confession Daniel was spurting right now. He was then thankful for being alive. For not bringing such ache to the people around him.

 

In his misery, Sungwoon was still glad. He could still walk, talk, see, breathe-- he could still do what he loves to. He could still be with the people he loves, who love him just the same, if not with much more intensity.

 

  
.

.

.

Months later, during their last concert, Sungwoon stood in front of the crowd. It had been a while. The fans, they were supportive. He could see little flash only. Although he was finally fine of being in bright places, the sentiment still touched him.

 

  
When he sang 영원+1, he closed his eyes and thought of the recent event. He was reminded of how blessed he is, how thankful he was for being guarded, protected, loved.

 

  
He still woke up at night, drenched in sweat as his dream replayed the scene of the accident .

 

  
In some days, he survived. In some, he saw his corpse lying helplessly on the ground.

 

  
Some days, Minhyun would be there, holding his hand, brushing the strands stuck to his face. He'd whisper, "It's okay, hyung. I'm here with you. You're doing great. You're alive, breathing and well."

 

Sungwoon tried to believe him. Although his throat became restricted, the scene of incoming cars and their looming spotlights haunt him even to his sleep. Even when he flinched when the light shone on him, when camera flashes blink to get good shots of him.

 

He wanted to get better.

 

He wanted to survive and he'd do anything for it. And it began with acknowledging that things had happened.

 

  
Maybe Sungwoon could finally find peace someday. To leave this past behind him and worked even harder for the future.

 

Maybe.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Will continue on this sometime in the future (after the reveals, perhaps?)


End file.
